


Like an Answer

by dappledsilversundew



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Road Trips, Slow Burn, Soulmates, no beta we die like george in manhunt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-22 18:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30043119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dappledsilversundew/pseuds/dappledsilversundew
Summary: Soulmate AU where once you turn 18, you stop aging until you meet your soulmate.A few weeks after Dream's twenty-first birthday, he realizes he's still aging. Meaning, he's met his soulmate before. Only... he has no idea who it is.And so, he makes a list. Twelve names. Twelve people. Twelve chances to find his soulmate.He recruits his best friend, George, to help him track down each person on the list.But what if real life is a whole lot messier than anything you can plan out with a piece of paper and a pencil?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 40





	1. The List

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! Thank you for stopping by, dear reader! This is just a couple of important things before the story starts.
> 
> This is cross-posted on Wattpad @dappledsilver! Concerning the story, I don't ship them irl, so please of course no harassing CCs or anything like that. I'll take this down immediately if asked. Any trigger warnings will be listed above each chapter. If you have a very particular/unusual trigger or anything like that, just send me a message (Discord is dappledsilver #5566) and I can let you know if my story contains it. Similarly, if I missed any, please let me know! 
> 
> All feedback is welcome & very much appreciated. I love interacting with readers, so you're always welcome to send me a message about literally anything. I'd love to hear from you. :]
> 
> Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

TW: slight anxiety

The realization arrived both gradually and suddenly, as though it had been building in his unconscious mind for years now. Only now was he coming to the realization that, for three years, he’s probably been unconsciously suppressing his own awareness of himself, of his body and form. He looked himself over in the mirror, as he did every morning, and took in his appearance: vivid green eyes, fluffed-up blonde hair, the lines and angles of his nose, cheekbones, and chin, the curve and hollow of his neck.

He was changing.

  
Not by much, of course, but in this case, it didn’t make a difference.

  
He lunged for his phone and dialed a familiar number, pressing the device to his ear. It rang a couple times before picking up.

  
“Oh, hey, Drea-”

  
“I’m aging,” he said.

  
A moment of silence. “Oh.” George’s tone was impossible to place.

  
Dream cleared his throat. “I don’t know what to do.”

  
“What do you mean? You’ve met your soulmate,” George stated the obvious.

  
“I don’t know who it is!” he exclaimed. “I’m not dating anybody… hell, I’ve barely met anybody new in the past four years. Oh, god, what if it’s someone, who, like, brushed my arm in a grocery store? Or someone I met in kindergarten?” The words opened up the floodgates of his thoughts, the horrible expanse of endless possibilities unfolding before his eyes. He’d met his soulmate before in the flesh - been in their presence, _and not known_. And now there was no certainty when - or if - he’d ever see them again. How many people did any given person encounter in a lifetime? Eighty? A hundred? Two hundred? More?

  
“It’s okay,” George continued soothingly. “Look, I’m sure you’ll find them, Dream.”

  
“But how?” he pressed, panic beginning to sink in, his breaths becoming shallow, his heart a heavy cinder block in his chest. A vise settled over him, slowly squeezing, making his blood pound.

  
“Don’t worry, Dream. They’re your soulmate for a reason. I’m sure things will work out.”

  
But Dream couldn’t let it go that easily. Now that the floodgates had opened, they weren’t going to close again. And he wasn’t strong enough to hold them shut on his own. “But what if they don’t?”

  
George paused for a moment, considering. “Well, you know, it’s more about what you build with someone than if they’re your soulmate or not, right? Doesn’t that matter more? Either way, it’s going to be fine.”

  
Dream shook his head vehemently, not liking that answer for even a moment. “I don’t want someone if they’re not my soulmate,” he insisted. “It’s just - they’re my _soulmate_ , George.”

  
“And you’ll find them, Dream.”

  
“But _how-”_

  
“Shush,” George scolded. “Worrying isn’t going to help solve anything. Go do something to distract yourself. Go… play Minecraft. Or something.”

  
Dream still wasn’t ready to let it go, but he sensed that George was done talking, and so he agreed and hung up.

  
He spent a few minutes pacing around his living room before deciding to do as George said and play Minecraft. He logged onto his computer and tried to distract himself from the dizzying thoughts by starting a new hardcore world. But the more he played, the more distracted he got, unable to tear himself away from the fact that he’d met his soulmate. That they were out there somewhere, right now, and he was just sitting there, playing Minecraft, when he could be looking for them.

  
And that’s when it hit him.

  
That’s exactly what he would do. He would look for them.

  
After all, he’d met them once before. That narrowed it down a great deal from nearly 8 billion, but not nearly enough.

  
Well, he’d make it enough.

  
He quit the game and fetched a sheet of paper and a pencil, thinking about all the people he’d met in the past, considering which could be his soulmate. It couldn’t be _that_ hard to figure out, right? Like George had said, they were his soulmate for a reason. They’d come to mind, right?

  
He wrote down the first set of people that came to mind, and then spent way too long overthinking before adding a few more names until he was satisfied. When he was finally finished, his list read:

Potential soulmates:  
Sydney  
Carson Bateman  
Boy from the coffee shop??  
Rosie Augustyn  
Alix M.? N.?  
Antonia Raasch  
Oliver (or was it Owen?)  
Ben Cline  
Sierra (from California!)  
Indigo Raskin  
Genevieve  
Sara Collins

It wasn’t much, seeing as he couldn’t even recall half of their last names, but it was better than nothing.

  
Right?

  
His soulmate had to be somewhere on this list. He was sure of it. It was this simple: if he could track down these people, find them again, he’d find his soulmate. Everything would be okay.  
Now, he just had to find them.

  
~

  
Three hours of scouring the internet later, he was thoroughly convinced that this monumental task wouldn’t be as simple as he’d originally thought. He’d managed to find a few of them, sure - but due to his anxiety about being identified, he hadn’t been going outside much recently. So, most of the people on his list were from high school, which was years ago. He couldn’t remember their last names, and it proved to be nearly impossible to find someone with only a first name.

  
Sydney, whom he only remembered from kindergarten, was nowhere to be found. He didn’t know what the boy looked like now, because he’d known him from literally sixteen years ago. He hadn’t gotten a yearbook from kindergarten because, well, it was fucking _kindergarten_. What kindergartener is interested in yearbooks? He hadn’t cared then.

  
Now, he wished he had.

  
Genevieve, Sierra, Carson, and Alix yielded similar results. He searched for them and found a few possibilities, most of which weren’t even living in Florida anymore. The boy from the coffee shop was even worse. He’d been a cashier, and an undeniably cute one at that.

  
Okay, so maybe he shouldn’t assume the world was going to give him a cute soulmate. But he’d _find_ them cute, right? After all, they were meant for each other.

  
But he definitely wasn’t getting anywhere with “boy from the coffee shop.” Not even having a name for someone and trying to find them was downright impossible. Dream had stared at those five words on the list for way too long, wondering if he was really someone worth trying to find, but the possibility of him being his soulmate felt too real and raw to let go. He couldn’t bring himself to cross the words off of his list, just in case. And when he finally found Indigo’s Instagram, he hovered over the “DM” option and felt himself hesitate. It felt so wrong, to just send someone a virtual message, to be so cowardly as to not ask them something this important face-to-face. He’d been casual friends with Indigo for a couple years. They’d been dryly funny and pragmatic. They weren’t particularly kind, and preferred to be blunt, but he’d never minded. He could see them as a couple.

  
Or maybe that was just the anxiety talking.

  
He looked back at the screen, at the waiting textbox and the cursor hovering over it, blinking, waiting for a message to be input.

  
No. This was too important. Some things, he decided, had to be done in person, and this was one of them. He wouldn’t send them a message inquiring about the status of his soulmate, the most important person of his existence. He’d find the courage and go ask them. In-person.

  
All of them. All twelve, if it came to it. Every one, until he found his soulmate.

  
After another few hours of searching, the reality of his situation began to sink in. Twelve people, twelve different worlds that he was trying to track down, trying to pin down like a fluttering bird’s wings, trying to capture so many different futures and fates, a dozen people who had each gone their separate ways in this vast and ever-so-beautiful universe. He couldn’t find them all - at least, not alone.

  
And that’s when he decided he needed backup.

  
He picked up his phone, dialing a number and letting it ring.


	2. Antonia Raasch

TW: slight anxiety

“Dream, this list is impossible! How are we supposed to find- really? Do you really think the ‘boy from the coffee shop’ could be your soulmate?” George sounded borderline exasperated.

“It’s a possibility!” Dream said defensively.

George sighed. “You’re not willing to give up on that one?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, well… I guess let’s start with the easiest ones. Do you seriously not remember half their last names?”

“Most of these people I knew from high school!” he pointed out. “I haven’t met like, practically anyone new since!”

George muttered something under his breath. “Did you get a yearbook at least?”

Dream hung his head in shame. “No.”

“Dream!”

“I’m sorry,” he whined. “But you’ve got to help me.”

“I’ll help you. You know that.”

Dream couldn’t help but smile. “Well, I appreciate it.”

Shuffling sounded on George’s side. “You better. Okay, so. Have you found any of their social media?”

“I found Antonia. And Indigo. And Oliver.” He fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

“Okay. Did you send them a message?”

“No,” he confessed. “It… I guess it just feels wrong? To ask them that over just, like, a DM. When I haven’t seen them in years?” He knew he wasn’t stringing together coherent sentences, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He waited for George to get upset with him or take back his offer of help. But he merely said, “That makes sense.” And then he tacked on, “Even if it does make this significantly more difficult.”

“I’m sorry,” Dream apologized again.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s whatever. So, for…” he paused, clearly already having forgotten.

“Antonia, Indigo, and Oliver,” Dream supplied.

“Right. For them, do you know where they, like, live? That sounds so creepy.”

He chuckled, a bit nervously. “No? But I saw that Antonia’s attending Rollins College. We could go see if she’s there.”

“Sounds like a plan! Need me to pick you up?”

“Yep.” Despite being a wildly successful YouTuber, he still didn’t have a car of his own.

Through the phone, he heard the sound of keys clanking and a door opening and shutting. “Cool, on my way.”

“See you soon.” Dream hung up and waited, his leg bouncing up and down. It wasn’t that far of a drive between their houses - 20 minutes maybe. But now, with that distance between him and his potential soulmate, it felt insurmountable. He considered getting on Minecraft to occupy his restless mind, but ultimately decided against it, getting up to pace around his kitchen instead. After way too long, a soft set of knocks came from the doorway, and he ran and opened it with a grin. George stood there, hair appearing slightly tousled, his brown eyes shimmering, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin and hands fixed at the corners of his flannel sweater.

“Ready?” George asked.

Dream stepped through the door and shut it behind him. “You bet.”

They got in the car and drove to Rollins College. George didn’t push him to talk, and the entire time Dream fidgeted with his hands or bounced his leg up and down. The prospect of seeing one of the dozen people he’d written down as his potential soulmate intimidated him. What if Antonia turned out to be the one?

Or worse: what if she didn’t?

When they arrived at the campus, George parked the car and reached over to Dream, tapping his forearm. Dream jumped, startled. He looked over at George with his soft-looking brown hair and concerned eyes. “Take a deep breath,” George advised, not unkindly. “She’s just a person, Dream. You’ll be fine.”

He swallowed and nodded.

George opened the car door and strode onto campus. A moment later, Dream followed. Together, they walked through the campus, admiring the well-maintained sprawling lawns and proud buildings. To their left spanned a lake, light reflecting off its surface and making the water almost shimmer, the scene complete with a small wooden boardwalk that stretched out over the water. Students holding several textbooks meandered along the brick paths, talking to each other animatedly. Dream fought the urge to cover his face every time a passerby so much glanced at him. His fear of being identified had become near-debilitating these past few years, so much so that he’d barely gone outside. As much as he hated being here, though, he told himself it would be worth it when he found his soulmate.

“So… how’re we gonna find her?” George broke the silence spanning the seemingly-infinite space between them.

To be honest, Dream really hadn’t thought that far ahead. Internally, he scolded himself. What had he expected, for Antonia to be at the edge of the campus, waiting for them? Of course not. They had to find her.

“We can ask around, I guess,” he suggested.

George stopped the first person they passed by. “Excuse me, do you know a person named Antonia Raasch?” he questioned. The boy in question clutched his blue textbook to his chest protectively, shook his head, and scurried off. George huffed, and they kept moving.

The next three people they asked yielded similar results. For every person who said no, Dream could feel a low, hollow feeling creeping up inside his chest. He knew it was ridiculous, but he couldn’t stop himself from wondering if maybe she didn’t want to be found by him.

George stopped another person, a young girl likely in her first year with mocha skin, and asked, “Excuse me, do you know if someone named Antonia Raasch is here?”

She nodded. Dream straightened, suddenly invested in her response.

“She lives in the Strong Hall dorm,” she replied. “Want me to take you there?”

“Please,” Dream threw in.

She led them to nearly the very edge of campus and to a lemon-coloured dorm. She pointed them towards the entrance. “I think she’s on the second floor. Room 29.”

“Thank you!” Dream called, already walking through the glass doors. George followed, and they entered a small, well-lit entryway with a turquoise stained-glass mosaic adorning the left wall. Hallways branched out to the left and the right, and Dream could see a hint of a common room, complete with cozy grey couches and a TV mounted to the wall.

George walked up from behind him. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Dream nodded, trying to ignore the thoughts stirring and whispering in the back of his mind, whispering about the upcoming rejection that they seemed to believe was inevitable. They went to the stairs, and he reached for the railing as they walked up one level. They passed several doorways, some decorated with little signs or drawings, other doors open entirely, revealing girls lounging or chatting or sitting in bed, typing away at a computer or scrolling through their phone. They reached Room 29, which was on the left.

Dream faced the wooden door and took a deep breath.

He raised his hand and knocked.

A moment later, the door swung open, revealing a tall brunette girl who peeked out at them, revealing a cozy room with two beds, a dark cream-coloured drawer, hanging clothes and dresses, and a beanbag slotted into the corner. She smiled, sunshine pouring out of her. “Hello there!”

“Hi. Is Antonia here?” Dream inquired, somewhat awkwardly.

Her eyes lit up. “Ah, yes, she is! I think she’s downstairs. Come with me.” She stepped through the doorway and gestured for them to follow.

“My name’s Steph!” she told them as they walked back down the hall. “What about you?”

“I’m George, and he’s Dream,” George interjected.

“It’s lovely to meet you! I’m a biochem major! Do you go here?” she asked, tone bright and cheery.

“No,” Dream answered succinctly as they reached the bottom of the stairs. They walked down the hall and to what appeared to be the cafeteria, a dining table in the middle, several girls eating and talking together, others perched by the stove or standing around.

“Oh! Well, it’s very nice here, I- TONI!” she bellowed. A slightly-shorter blonde girl turned and spotted them and made her way over, weaving in-between people to get to them.

“Hey,” Antonia - Toni - greeted with a small wave. Her eyes fixed on Dream, and her easy smile wavered, and then fell. “I recognize you,” she said slowly, sounding almost confused.

“Yeah, I- um. I’m Clay. From high school?” he tried. “I go by Dream now though.”

Just like that, as though she’d solved a puzzle, she smiled again. “Oh yeah! I remember you! How’s it been?”

“Good,” he answered, glancing down at his shoes. “And you?”

“I’m doing great! What brings you here?”

He swallowed. Both Toni and Steph studied him curiously, two pairs of softly joyous eyes awaiting his answer. This would be the difficult part.

“I, um. I’m 21, and I’m aging,” he began. He cleared his throat, trying to calm the furious tremble in his hands and the waver in his voice. “And I was wondering if… uh, if you could possibly be my soulmate?”

Toni stared at him, blue-green eyes wide with surprise. She recovered after only a moment, though, and offered him a soft smile, even reaching out to pat him on the arm. “I don’t think so,” she replied gently, clearly trying to let him down slowly. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help, I really do. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Okay. Um. No, that’s alright. Thanks for your time. We’ll be going now.” He tried to smile at her, but failed miserably, the corners of his mouth refusing to comply. One person down, eleven to go.

Toni and Steph cast him near-identical sympathetic glances. No wonder they seemed to get along so well.

George, as if sensing his panic, reached for his hand and pulled him out of the situation, half-hauling him into the hallway, past the paintings and dorm rooms and back out into the open. Dream inhaled, taking in the fresh, clean air, trying to calm himself. He knew this was only one person, only the first of twelve, but that didn’t stop it from hurting.

“It’s okay, Dream,” George told him. He still hadn’t released his hand. “It’s only one person, right?”

“Yeah.” Dream nodded. “Yeah,” he repeated, as if saying it again would make him believe it.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll help you look through the other names. We’ll try again tomorrow. We’ll find the rest of them, I promise.”

“Okay,” he whispered, his eyes shutting against his own volition, as though if he tried hard enough, he could shut out everything he didn’t like about the world.

George released his hand. “I’ll drive you home.”

Dream didn’t feel like speaking, so he simply nodded, forcing himself to reopen his eyes, which traced the trees and students and buildings as they walked. He wondered if he was somehow leaving a piece of him behind here, buried beneath the weight of everything he wasn’t sure he deserved.


	3. Indigo Raskin

George slammed his fist onto the table. “I can’t find anything!” 

“That’s alright. We have Indigo’s address, right?” Dream checked, glancing over at the scrawled list of notes listing everything they could find about the remaining eleven people. 

“Yeah, and Rosie’s. No one else, though.” George rubbed his eyes. They’d been searching for the past two hours. 

“Well, I found Carson’s,” Dream ventured. “That makes three. That’s good. That’s progress.” He glanced at the clock. “Do you want some lunch?”

George pushed his computer to the side and stood, stretching. “That sounds great.”

Dream echoed the motion, standing and stretching before walking into the kitchen. George slid into one of the stools next to the countertop and watched Dream dig through the freezer for something to heat up. He grabbed a package of frozen pizza and held it up triumphantly.

“Ah, really going for the healthy stuff today,” he joked as Dream put the frozen pizza in the microwave.

“Yep,” he deadpanned. George giggled, making the corners of Dream’s mouth curl upward.

When the pizza was finished, he poured two glasses of water and perched on the other stool and they ate in silence. Dream’s thoughts kept drifting back to the list and its eleven remaining names. Even as a young boy, he’d always had the dream of meeting his soulmate and living a happily-ever-after. In their society, it was common to wait to settle until you were certain, or at the very least convinced for the most part, that someone was your other half. Being a romantic at heart, he’d loved that, loved the idea of someone out there being  _ made  _ for him. He never cared about whether they were male or female or nonbinary - that didn’t matter to him, as long as whoever it was loved him.

George finished his pizza and placed his plate in the sink. George raised his brows when Dream dumped the remainder of his meal into the trash, but he didn’t care that George disapproved. He was too preoccupied with the list to continue eating.

“So. To Indigo’s place?” George asked. Dream nodded.

They got into the car and started driving. Dream looked out the window and watched the blurring surroundings pass them by, the tapping of his leg giving away his invisible anxiety. When George finally slowed and parked the car, they were in front of not an apartment building, but a Starbucks.

George unbuckled his seat belt and got out. “One moment.” He vanished inside and returned a moment later holding two coffees, both likely filled with way too much sugar to be healthy. He climbed back in and passed one to Dream, who hesitantly took a sip, the piping-hot beverage burning his tongue instantly. He coughed and sputtered. “Hot,” he whined, his tongue still hurting.

“Idiot,” George commented, not without affection. He took a sip of his own coffee, wisely blowing on the beverage first. “Okay. Pep talk time! Complete with caffeine and everything.”

Dream grinned, amused. “Alright.”

“We will do this.” George set down his coffee in the centre console. “We will prevail! No matter what happens, don’t let it get you down, because we’ll get through it, okay? There’s a whole wide world out there. Your soulmate is out there somewhere. I promise.”

Dream frowned. He didn’t like George’s choice of words. He didn’t want his soulmate to be somewhere out there, drifting through the cosmos, as though trying to find them would be like shooting an arrow blindfolded and hoping it landed. He wanted them to be one of the eleven remaining names on the list. That way, there was nothing unpredictable; it was simple, and easy. If there was anything Dream disliked, it was uncertainty. It left too much room for things to go wrong, for someone to take the jump and fall instead of fly. He didn’t want to fall. 

He wanted to fly.

“You mean somewhere on the list, right?” he asked. It could’ve just been his imagination, but he could’ve sworn that George tensed at those words. But then, he nodded.

“Sure,” George agreed. He cleared his throat and looked away, and then a moment later, spoke again. “Point being, I’m here for you. We’ll get through this together. Don’t let anyone’s rejection get to you. Okay? Repeat after me. I am Dream!”

“This is stupid,” Dream decided.

“You’d better say it,” George threatened playfully, wielding his straw like a weapon and angling it at Dream. Dream raised his hands in surrender. 

“Ok, ok! Just don’t stab me.”

“Good. Repeat after me: I am Dream!” George ordered.

Dream rolled his eyes, but played along. “I am Dream!”

“And I will find my soulmate!”

“And I will find my soulmate!”

“I will not let anyone bring me down!”

“I will not let anyone bring me down!”

“George is my favorite person!”

Dream shook his head, a stupidly wide grin spreading across his face. “Not a chance, Georgie.”

George’s hand rose to his chest dramatically, and he hung his head in faux hurt.

Now that his coffee had cooled down, Dream took another sip and swallowed. He couldn’t help but feel grateful for how hard George was trying on his behalf. He didn’t have to do any of this, and yet he was. And yet, he  _ cared.  _ “But seriously. Thank you.” Dream meant it with everything in him.

“You’re welcome, Dream. That’s what friends do.”

~

They arrived at Indigo’s apartment building. And, silly as it had been, George’s pep talk had done wonders for his anxiety, making it all blow away like smoke in the wind. Suddenly, it didn’t feel like it mattered so much anymore what Indigo said, because if they said no, one of the other ten would say yes. It would be okay in the end. He knew it would. It  _ had  _ to, because the only other option was that it wouldn’t be okay, and he couldn’t face that, now or ever. And so he’d believe in the good for as long as he had to, as long was necessary, to keep himself together, to keep his heart beating and oxygen flowing through his lungs and bloodstream.

They exited the car and took the elevator up to Indigo’s floor. They stepped in front of Indigo’s apartment, Room #44. Once again, George waited patiently for Dream to be ready to knock, not pushing him, simply standing there, a comforting, warm presence. 

Forcing himself not to overthink it, he reached up and knocked.

A few moments passed, and no one answered. They waited a little longer, and still no one came to the door. Dream exhaled, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He turned to George. “Maybe they’re not home.”

But then, a set of rapid footsteps sounded, and the door swung open, revealing Indigo, who stood well below him and had hair cut short and woven in with vivid purple extensions. Their eyes scanned Dream up and down before narrowing slightly.

“Yes?” they prompted.

“Hi, Indigo,” Dream began. “It’s, uh, good to see you-”

“Why are you here?” Indigo cut him off.

He took a deep breath, trying not to feel intimidated. Indigo, while small physically, always managed to feel like the biggest presence in the room. Whether that was good or bad, he didn’t know. “I’m 21, and I’m not aging. And I was wondering-”

“No.”

He blinked. “What?”

Indigo leaned against the doorframe. “I know what you’re going to ask. The answer is no.”

Dream blinked again, not knowing what else to do. It was already over. He was down to ten on his list, just like that.

“Is that all?” Indigo’s eyes swept over him, bored. Unimpressed.

“Yeah,” he managed. “Uh, sorry. We’ll be on our way now.”

Without another word, Indigo shut the door.

Dream turned to George, who paused for only a moment before bursting into laughter. It took another moment for Dream to crack a smile, but eventually, he did.

George hooked their arms together and tugged him towards the exit. “Ten to go.”

“Ten to go,” he agreed, glancing over at the smiling boy next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> daylight savings is my enemy


	4. Carson Bateman

Driving towards Carson Bateman’s house, Dream wondered what had become of the boy he’d last seen at senior graduation. The quiet, stoic Carson he’d known from high school now lived in Orlando and worked as a software programmer.

George pulled over next to a small, beige house and parked the car. “Well? You ready?” George prompted.

Dream nodded. They walked up to the doorway, and as he’d done the first two times, George waited for him to be ready to knock, never doing it himself, never pushing. He didn’t comment when Dream shuffled his feet and glanced around, taking in the little potted succulent to the right of the door and the simple ‘Welcome’ doormat beneath his feet. He steeled himself with a deep breath and knocked.

Almost immediately, footsteps sounded from upstairs. Someone walked down the stairs and to the door, opening it just enough to reveal a tall man with glasses wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt.

“Sorry, no solicitors, please,” he spoke gruffly.

“I’m not - we went to high school together,” Dream blurted.

Carson’s brows lifted. “We did?”

Dream nodded. “I’m here to ask about - well, um. I’m 21 and I’m still aging, and I’m not really sure exactly who my soulmate is, and I wondered if maybe it could be you?”

Carson looked at him point-blank, and Dream realized that whatever he said next would be entirely honest. Dream swallowed near-audibly. The thought of having to face something for whatever it was, to learn how to live with it, no matter how difficult, scared him.

“I’m sorry to let you down, but no. I’m straight,” Carson said simply.

Dream took a moment to process another one of his futures shattering and then nodded slowly. He knew that Carson was just one person on the list, and that there were still nine other people left, but that didn’t stop it from hurting. At least, in a small, quiet sort of way, the reminder living like a bruise on his skin, only hurting when touched, whispering to him that he’d met yet another person who he’d never be good enough to love. “Okay. Thank you for your time.”

“Have a nice day.” Carson offered only a small wave before shutting the door with a soft click.

He and George wandered back to the car. George pulled back onto the road, and cleared his throat before saying, “We have nothing else to do today. We should go do something together.”

“Okay,” Dream agreed. “Like… play Minecraft?”

“We do that like, everyday anyways,” George complained, mirth twinkling in his chocolate eyes.

“And?” Dream challenged.

George only shook his head. “C’mon, Dream. Let’s, like… go laser-tagging. Or to the beach! Or go get ice cream! Something other than Minecraft.”

Dream considered this for a moment. “I mean, sure.”

George grinned, and Dream couldn’t help but return the smile.

They drove to wherever George deemed appropriate for the occasion, which turned out to be Invasion laser tag. They went inside and stood in line. When they reached the front, George said to the worker, “One round of laser tag, please.”

The worker reached behind the counter for two paper lime-coloured bracelets. “That’ll be six dollars.”

George muttered something under his breath that sounded like _overpriced_ before reaching for his pocket. Dream grabbed his arm. “Don’t. I’ll get it.”

George pulled his arm back. “Like hell you will,” he said, words laced with a playful challenge.

“I will!” he insisted, pulling out his own wallet.

“Let me pay for it, Dream!”

“No!”

“I’m serious!”

“So am I!”

They glared at each other for a solid minute before the worker cleared his throat. “Um, that’ll be six dollars. Sirs.”

George huffed. “Fine. You can pay for this if I can pay for the ice cream.”

Dream blinked. “Ice cream?”

“Of course, what else heals a broken heart?” he stated like it should be obvious.

Dream crossed his arms. “I don’t have a broken heart.” Then, remembering that he should probably pay, he pulled out twelve dollars and passed it over to the irritated worker, who handed them their paper bracelets wordlessly. They stepped to the side and Dream struggled to put on his bracelet with one hand.

“You sure about that, Dream?” George asked teasingly. “You’re a big baby most of the time.”

“Hey!” He wasn’t sure if he should feel offended or not.

His hands fumbled again, unable to keep the paper bracelet in place, and George reached for his hand. When their skin touched, he flinched unintentionally. Something behind George’s eyes went cold, and he muttered, “I’m just trying to help.” His thumbs grazed over the inside of Dream’s wrist as he held the bracelet in place, peeling off the sticky-paper and folding it neatly. As soon as he finished, he released Dream’s hand and stepped back, not meeting Dream’s eyes.

Dream opened his mouth to say something, but just then, the doors to the laser-tag room opened. A worker beckoned to them, and they walked inside a small area filled with racks and vests glowing blue or red in the darkened room.

George selected a blue vest and slipped it over his head. Dream reached for a blue vest and hesitated when he heard George say, “Don’t.”

He eyed George. “Why not?”

“Because I want to beat you. And I can’t do that if we’re on the same team.” He raised a brow pointedly.

Dream shook his head with a chuckle, but obediently put on a red vest. “Do you really want to compete against me?”

“Of course. What else is laser tag for?”

They walked into the cavernous room and surveyed the space. The walls, built to look like stone, stretched too tall for either to see over and had several nooks and crannies nestled inside from which to hide or scout out targets. In the middle, there were ramps leading up to one main base, enabling people to snipe others from above. There were also a limited number of targets on the wall, their vivid red or blue colour showing who currently claimed it.

“Why can’t we just work together?” he tried one last time.

George grinned.

And raised his gun up and “shot” Dream. Dream’s vest flashed once, signifying the hit and temporarily disabling his gun.

He stared at George open-mouthed, betrayal like ice in his veins.

George only giggled, the sound paralyzing him further, before slinking off into the shadows and darting neon lights.

 _Oh, it’s on_ , Dream decided once his ability to think returned in full capacity. He gripped his laser gun and dove through the passageways, the lights glinting from above soaking the entire area in a dangerous red, adrenaline beginning to pound through his blood the more he moved and breathed.

He raised his laser gun and fired at several of the blue players within his line of sight. He spun around the corner and hid, getting way too into this game for any reasonable 21-year-old. He kept going, cursing under his breath when he faced off against a blue opponent and lost, his vest flashing to signal his loss. He darted left and continued searching the place for George, determined to find him and exact revenge. He’d show him.

It took several more minutes of running around corners and straightways before he finally found George. He rounded a corner and noticed a flash of blue light coming from someone’s vest and raised his gun just as they slipped out of sight again. He ran after them, and when he saw them again, he realized by his brown hair and short stature and the way he moved that it was George.

Even more determined now, he ran forward and instead of immediately shooting, reached for George’s shoulders and turned, half-pinning him against the wall.

George, caught off-guard, startled before freezing and staring at him with wide eyes.

Dream raised the laser-gun to George’s chest and fired, watching the other’s vest flash. He grinned devilishly. "Got you," he whispered, watching the way his friend shivered at his words, the way the neon light set his face alight, illuminating the panes of his face, shadowing his eyes in a soft darkness.

He looked impossible, like he had no right to exist like that. Like he’d caught him in an intimate moment of simply living, pupils blown wide, lips full and too-red in the light.

Beautiful.

Panicking internally at the thought, he pushed it down and down until he could forget that it had ever crossed his mind to begin with. He released George and ran away, inducing a shriek from behind him. “Get back here, you!” George yelled. He ran further, throwing himself past corner after corner. Behind him, he could hear George giving chase. Dream turned and shot at him again, George shouting indignantly as the shot hit its mark.

Dream ran into a corridor and turned right, not realizing he’d set himself up to reach a dead-end. He gulped and turned around, waiting.

A moment later, George turned the corner and glared at him, stalking towards him. George moved closer and closer before placing his hands on the wall on either side of him, smirking at him. After a second, it became apparent that George, for whatever reason, wasn’t reaching for his gun, Dream lifted his hand and placed it on George’s chest to push him away. But then, inexplicably, he didn’t. Perhaps it was the adrenaline still racing through his bloodstream, or the electricity sparking through the air, or the filtered scarlet light streaming from the ceiling, or all of the above, but for whatever reason, he didn’t push George away or move his hand. He simply stood there, watching George, feeling his rapid heartbeat and breaths underneath his palm, noticing the way the light glinted against his face, turning his eyes slightly too dark. George smiled then, and the blood-red light flooded into his mouth and gleamed crimson against his teeth, offsetting the blue glow of his vest. Dream barely managed to stop himself from tugging him closer.

The lights turned back to normal, the neon red vanishing all at once. George, suddenly back to his normal cream skin and chocolate-brown eyes, now seemed to be standing so _close_ , Dream’s hand still on his chest. The transition jarred Dream enough that he jerked his hand back.

The game was over.

“I’ll get you next time,” George swore.

Dream grinned. “We’ll see about that.”

~

A soft bell sounded as Dream held the door open for George. They stepped inside the parlor and got in line, George stepping up to the glass and scanning the available flavours.

“What’re you getting?” Dream asked.

George hummed, tapping his chin consideringly. “Cookie dough good with you?”

“Absolutely.”

They reached the front of the line and both ordered ice cream, which George paid for as a part of the deal. They headed outside and sat in the adorable blue wire chairs, both eating ice cream with tiny plastic spoons.

“Is your heartbreak healed now?” George joked, nudging Dream with his foot.

“Yes, completely,” he answered, taking another bite.

When they finished, they got back in the car and George drove him home.

“G’night, Dream,” George called.

Dream shut the car door and waved. “Goodnight!”

Only when he’d walked inside and shut the door, placing his phone and wallet on the counter, did he realize he hadn’t thought about Carson or the list even once since laser tag.


	5. Rosie Augustyn

Someone knocked at the front door, and Dream hollered, “One moment, please!”

George’s muffled voice sounded from the outside. “Come get the door, idiot. Don’t leave me standing out here in the cold!”

Dream ran over and opened it. George’s brown eyes peered up at him, the small bit of annoyance present there offset by the huge grin he broke into once he saw Dream.

“It’s, like, 50 degrees Fahrenheit,” Dream pointed out.

George stepped through the doorway, dramatically exaggerating the motion of rubbing his arms up and down. “Enough for me to freeze.”

Dream rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. We’re going to Rosie Augustyn’s house today, right?” They’d made little progress on finding information about the list, aside from Rosie’s address.

“Yep,” George confirmed. “Do you want to leave now?”

He nodded. He retrieved his coat and slipped it on, the fabric resting snugly against skin. They got into the car and George began driving. They didn’t feel a need to talk, being past the point in their friendship where silence was awkward. Now, the quiet felt companionable rather than space to be filled.

Dream gazed out of the window, occupying himself with observing whatever they passed. Although he lived here and knew the streets by heart, he never did tire of simply watching, whether that be from a car window, balcony, park bench or towel on the sand. He loved catching sight of neighborhoods and birds and the beach, the ocean’s vivid blue-green touching the horizon. Try as he might, he couldn’t see anything but beauty wherever he looked. Maybe, he thought wistfully, that’s why he needed a list to find his soulmate. It allowed him to organize the beautiful chaos of the world into something he could understand. He looked at everything with such a quiet awe, a gentle adoration. He couldn’t not find something to love about everything. The very act of living, of existence, was beautiful to him. All people were so lovely in his eyes, and so how was he supposed to know which one was meant for him?

His eyes drifted over to George. He couldn’t help but subtly admire the boy, the way his skin seemed so soft in the gentle, filtered light entering through the windows. His eyes seemed to contain dozens of shades of earth, each a careful brush-stroke against a canvas painted by a steady artist’s hand. The slope of his nose, the delicate angle of his cheekbone, the steep lines of his neck, the pools of shadow resting in the dips of his collarbone turned him into something straight off of the walls of the Louvre.

“You done staring?”

Dream spluttered indignantly. “I wasn’t _staring_.”

George’s mouth twitched with amusement. “Oh really?”

“Yep.”

“Whatever you say, Dreamie,” George replied easily. Dream opened his mouth to reply, but George spoke faster. “Laser-tag was fun, right? Do you want to do something else later? We can go watch a movie or something.”

“Sure,” he agreed.

The rest of the drive passed mostly in silence, other than a discussion about a new idea for a video. When they finally arrived, they found themselves at a small, quaint house painted a soft yellow, its driveway made of brick and a small, well-kept garden in front. It felt serene, homey almost, and Dream rushed to squash the small bit of hope blooming in his chest that whispered to him that this place could feel like home.

George parked the car, and they approached the doorway. Dream knocked, and they both waited. It took a few moments, but someone answered the door, and Dream knew immediately that it was Rosie when he saw her. She still had the same long blonde hair and full red lips, the same short stature and loud presence.

Her eyes landed on him, and her cherry lips curled upwards. “Hey, Clay, what’s up? Long time, no see,” she practically purred.

“Oh!” He perked up at being remembered. “I go by Dream now.”

“It’s great to see you.” Her eyes didn’t leave his face.

He shuffled his feet slightly, uncomfortable under the attention. “You too. I’m, uh, here because I’m 21 now, and I’m still aging. And I wondered if you could possibly maybe be my soulmate?”

Dream watched as her eyes lit up. “Oh, absolutely!”

Her response caught him off guard, and he immediately straightened. “Wait, really?” he gasped, and then immediately scrambled to compose himself, trying to calm his hands twisting at his sides and the heat flooding through his cheeks. “I mean, uh, yeah, that’s really cool,” he rambled. “So, uh, you’re aging too then?”

“Yes, I just noticed it recently,” she gushed. “I was wondering who it could be! But that it’s you - that’s wonderful. I’m lucky to have such a good soulmate that you even came looking for me! You’re so sweet.”

Dream beamed. This was what he’d always wanted - someone to love, someone who would never leave him. His soulmate. And he’d found her.

It felt too good to be true.

“May I take you out on a date?” he blurted.

“I’d love nothing more,” she responded, brushing back a lock of her hair. She held out her hand expectantly. “Here, give me your phone.” He did, and she put in her number and passed it back, her long nails painted with itty-bitty strawberries.

Elated, Dream glanced over at George, whose face had become cold and closed-off. He opened his mouth, about to ask what was wrong, but Rosie interjected, “How does later tonight sound, babe?”

He turned back towards her. “Oh, sure! Dinner at 7?”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you then.” She winked before closing the door once more.

Without another word, George turned and stalked back towards the car. Dream rushed to catch back up and slid into the passenger’s seat, unable to help the grin that remained on his face. “I’m so happy,” he breathed. “I - I found her. All thanks to you. You’re the best friend ever, George.”

George stared at the road, refusing to meet his eyes. “What happened to watching a movie tonight?”

“Ah, shoot. I completely forgot. What about another time?” Dream asked hopefully.

George nodded. “Yeah, sure,” he echoed, voice distant and dripping with hoarfrost. “Another time.”

Dream frowned. “You alright? You didn’t seem too happy back there.”

“I’m happy for you, Dream,” George muttered. He glanced over at Dream and his expression softened, just barely. He breathed out, only a fraction of the tension leaving his body. “Really.”

“Well, thank you,” Dream said. “You’re the one who made all this possible, and I really, really appreciate it.”

George didn’t respond.

~

Dream finished buttoning up his shirt and took a deep breath. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, messing with his hair again, exhaling almost aggressively. He’d never been this nervous on a date before, which made no sense to him. This was his soulmate. He should be less anxious, not more.

But somehow, her being his soulmate only made it matter that much more. Soulmate rejections were… _incredibly_ rare, to say the least. Almost unheard of. But it wasn’t impossible.

He headed outside and walked to the restaurant they’d agreed to meet at. He got a table ahead of time and waited, occupying himself with reading and then rereading the menu over and over again, trying to calm his restless thoughts.

“Hey!”

Dream glanced up and smiled. “Hello.”

Rosie wore a scarlet dress and carried a white purse. She slid into the chair across from him. “It’s wonderful to see you! Tell me a bit about yourself.”

Dream hesitated. He knew there was a chance she wouldn’t be happy about his job, but she was his soulmate and deserved nothing less than the truth. And so he told her about how he’d dropped out of college and started a YouTube channel that’d been successful enough that he didn’t really go to many public places anymore in fear of being recognized. He was still faceless, he explained, despite having millions of loyal viewers and making a more-than-decent income from his job. He paused halfway through when the waiter came to take their orders before finishing his story.

“That’s incredible!” Rosie gushed.

Dream felt heat flood his cheeks. So she wasn’t upset, then. “Thanks. What do you do?”

“Oh, I’m a fashion designer,” she answered. She launched into a detailed description of her job at a local fashion design company and the people she worked with and the clothes she designed, which were mainly dresses and skirts. Dream nodded along, listening intently, still awestruck by how surreal her existence felt. He’d found her, against all odds.

The food arrived, and they ate dinner together and continued to chat. When they were finished eating, he paid and they headed outside. She went to her car, and Dream held out his arms wordlessly. She strode forward and embraced him.

“Would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” he asked shyly, glancing down at her through long lashes.

“Of course.” She nuzzled into his chest. “Thank you for dinner, Dream.”

“You’re welcome.” They separated and he waved goodbye to her as she drove away. He walked home, left to his thoughts. Everything about this had been, _was_ , perfect. Now that he’d found his soulmate, he didn’t ever need, or want, anything else. His life, between his job and his millions of fans and his caring best friend and beautiful girlfriend, was entirely complete. Perfect. 

He ignored the hollow feeling in his chest that told him otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited this at 1am so I'm sorry if it's incoherent lol


End file.
